Weathering the Storm: Secrets in the Snow, # 6

by Roz Marshall

  "Excuse me," Mike said to his class, then raised his voice. "Simon!"

  Spock's shaggy head turned, and Mike motioned him over and looked pointedly at the jacket and the snowboard. "Aren't you working today?"

  "Taking the day off, dude."

  Mike narrowed his eyes. "Was that your idea or Allan's?"

  There was a moment's hesitation, then the boy replied. "Izzy's."

  Over by the hut, the social worker seemed to have concluded her discussion with Allan and was tucking her notebook into her pocket as she turned toward the car park. Mike looked at Spock again. "What about tomorrow? Are you working tomorrow?"

  "Maybe." He glanced across at Allan, who was heading back inside. "If there's an adult class." He shrugged. "On Monday I've to do some child protection training thing in Inverness."

  Mike raised his eyebrows. "Is the ski school organising that for you?"

  The boy's head swung from side to side. "Paying for it myself."

  He doesn't look best pleased about that. "And you'll lose another day's wages?"

  Spock's long face took on a hang-dog expression. "Yep."

  Mike stared at the boy for a moment, then jerked his chin towards the chairlift. "At least you get to enjoy the good weather. Enjoy your day's boarding."

  Spock arrived at the Highlander chairlift just as Callum reached the bottom of the run with his group.

  The Scot slid up behind him in the queue. "Chum you up the chairlift?"

  Chum? He frowned. Oh, he means he'll keep me company. Another Scottish-ism to add to his list. "Cool."

  As the chairlift scooped them up and swung away up the hill, Callum turned to Spock. "Saves me being accused of favouritism if I chum you rather than one of my class."

  That's what I need to do; not share the chair with boys like little Harry. Even if Harry was getting victimised by the other boys. "Dude, did you ever get bullied at school?"

  Callum blinked. "Uh, yeah." He motioned down at his short legs. "Guy my size is a prime target."

  "How did you stop them?"

  "I'd get in there first with the jokes about my size, before they could. Making people laugh is a great defence. They'd worry I'd make fun of them next." He looked Spock up and down. "What about you?"

  Spock shrugged. "Library. Bullies never went there."

  "Too true."

  He scratched his nose. "On Tuesday, Allan's going to give you my Beechfields group."

  "Really? Why?"

  "One of the them — Harry — gets bullied by William. Like Prince Harry and Prince William."

  "Oh, okay."

  "Maybe you can stop the bullying."

  Callum raised an eyebrow. "I don't think anyone can stop bullies being bullies. You need to stand up to them."

  That made sense. Maybe that's what I need to do. Stand up to bullies.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday 18th March

  SPOCK CREPT THROUGH the forest and slid quietly into his hide. Before he was even properly inside, he was peering anxiously out of the viewing hole at the osprey nest across the clearing. Wait. Is that…? Unable to believe his eyes, he wrestled his camera out of its bag and zoomed in on the nest. Yes!

  Framed in his viewfinder were two ospreys. His face broke into an exultant smile. What was it Debbie was always quoting from that book of hers? Something about a single man in possession of a something — a nest? — being in want of a wife? Looked like his osprey had hit the jackpot.

  A sting of wind whistled through the trees and whirled around his hide. He shivered, and quickly fired off a few shots of the ospreys on their nest. Light's not that good today. Maybe I'll get a better photo tomorrow.

  He was bent over, checking the photos on the preview screen, when he heard a screech of alarm from one of the birds, and his head jerked up. In the grey sky above their nest, a third bird circled threateningly, then plummeted towards the pair on the nest.

  One of the pair — the male, Spock assumed — lifted off and tried to intercept the interloper, which wheeled away with a scream of defiance. The male returned to protect his mate, but moments later the challenger returned, diving towards the two birds on top of the ruined tree. Puffing out its chest, the male opened its massive wings and flapped them threateningly towards the attacking bird. It would've made a great photo.

  Photos! Spock had been so entranced with the gladiatorial display, he'd forgotten his camera. Berating himself for his stupidity, he swung the Canon to his face and quickly twisted the focus ring. It was all over in a few minutes, but not before Spock had got some great images of the nesting osprey fighting off its rival.

  Dude, you rock! Spock mouthed at the victorious bird, fist pumping in a victory salute.

  Another gust of wind seemed to blow away the last of the light, and Spock reluctantly gathered his things and crept towards the tree-line a few yards behind his hide. But then a thought occurred to him and he changed course. Using the rocks, gorse and bracken for cover, he picked his way around the clearing to get a different angle on the nest, to be sure that the other bird was really gone.

  Holding his breath, he gazed through the gloaming, struggling to focus his eyes in the half-light. But there were just two birds on the nest, and there were no tell-tale flashes of white feathers in the trees round about. They're safe for tonight then. Good. He turned for the village, scanning the unfamiliar ground to ensure his footfalls would be quiet and not disturb the ospreys, when something alien caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up. A cigarette butt? Someone had been smoking here?

  Straightening, he scrutinised his surroundings. Someone else had been in the forest. Recently. Were they watching the ospreys too?

  Spock leaned on the rough-hewn oak mantelpiece, gazing at the flickering fire in the grate below. It was mesmerising. He glanced at the beautiful elf princess sitting in the carved chair across from him. She's pretty mesmerising too. Wonder what she looks like in real life? But he couldn't ask her that. Too personal.

  'What do you do IRL?' he messaged.

  EvenStar's avatar raised its hands and started typing. 'Researcher. You?'

  'Programmer.'

  'That's spooky! I do a bit of coding too.'

  'Cool.'

  There was a pause. 'Did you decide yet about LegendCon?'

  He swallowed. 'Can't go. No cash left.'

  There was another pause, then her character's head and shoulders started to bob up and down as she messaged him. 'Credit card?'

  'Don't do credit cards. Don't trust them.'

  'Ah. That makes it a bit difficult then.'

  'Yep.'

  'Shame. I was looking forward to seeing you IRL.'

  So was he. He fingered the piece of card in his pocket. Could he phone Anna? Would they pay up-front if he did that TV show? Probably not. He'd just have to find some other way of making the extra money in time for the convention.

  'Will try to get some extra work.'

  'That would be nice.' The elf princess stood up. 'Gotta go. G'night Lance.'

  Chapter 14

  Sunday 19th March

  A MOVEMENT AT the nest caught Spock's eye. Instinctively, he grabbed at his camera, peering across the swathe of cleared woodland at the ruined tree opposite. For a moment, he couldn't work out what was wrong, and then he realised that both birds had left the nest. Both of them? That was highly unusual. Usually they took turns in hunting, but one always remained behind to incubate the eggs. Maybe it was because he was earlier than normal, and this was the way they usually behaved at this time of the day? He scanned the forest around the nest through his zoom lens but saw nothing. Could it be a rival bird? He scanned the skies above, but they too were empty. He frowned, lowering the camera, and stared myopically at the distant trees where the two ospreys were perching. What had spooked them?

  For minutes, nothing happened, and the birds continued to sit restively at the edge of his vision. But then a low-lying branch at the far side of the clearing moved slowly downwards, and Spock held his br
eath.

  At first, all he saw was a dark shape creeping into view, flitting from tree to tree and bush to bush. But it was followed by another dark shape, and Spock realised that it was two men. Slowly, he raised the camera back to his face, and twisted the focus ring until he could see the men more clearly.

  They were both clad in camouflage gear; the first man was shorter and stockier with a dark beard, the second thinner and taller with hair of an indeterminate brown. Quietly, Spock squeezed the trigger, thankful for the sound baffle he'd bought to avoid spooking the ospreys, and snapped some photos of the two men as they crept towards the nest.

  Stopping at the bottom of the tree containing the bird's nest, the men glanced quickly around, and then the taller one shrugged into a climbing harness, threw a rope around the trunk of the tree and clipped himself on.

  It only took a minute for the man to ascend a few metres, but by then, Spock was in motion. He couldn't let these two men steal the osprey eggs — for he was sure that was their intention. Somehow, he had to stop them.

  His outrage had taken him half-way across the clearing before his brain caught up with what he was doing and reason kicked in. How was he going to tackle two men, all on his own? Two men who were probably expecting trouble, and might be armed. He was a snow sports instructor, not a prize fighter. You donkey! He dropped to all fours behind a gorse bush, but not before his frantic scramble through the undergrowth had attracted the attention of the stocky man.

  "Hey!" the man shouted. "You, there! Stop!"

  Not likely. Spock jumped to his feet and turned towards the village, throwing caution to the wind and loping as fast as he could through the bushes and bracken in the direction of the main forest path. Behind him, he could hear crashing noises and loud footfalls as the men — it sounded like both of them had joined the chase — pursued him through the trees. Good. At least they haven't discovered my hide. The hide where he'd left his camera with the incriminating evidence. Please don't let them find it.

  But right now, his own hide, not his bird-watching hide, was a more pressing concern. Spock was mountain-fit, not running-fit, and the men sounded like they were getting closer. As his boots hit the sandy path through the woods, he pumped his legs and arms harder, straining to reach the relative safety of the village before the men caught him. But at this time of day, would anyone be around to help him? If the men caught him, he was under no illusions as to what they might do to him.

  He'd have to head for the main street. There'd be people in the pub. If I can get there in time. As the gate to the village became visible through the gloom of the forest, his lungs were burning and his legs felt like lead. He risked a glance behind — and wished he hadn't. The men were closer than he'd thought; their stertorous breathing audible above his own gasping breaths.

  Fear and adrenaline flooded his tired legs, and he hurdled the gate, but his ankle gave way on landing and he stumbled and fell into the road. That's it. I'm dead. They'll catch me for sure now, he thought, as he scrambled frantically to his feet.

  Sometimes, like today, the mountains looked at their best at the end of the afternoon. Jude sat quietly in the front of the car, allowing the tranquillity and majesty of her surroundings to salve her soul. Pink light tinged the tops of the snow-covered hills, which were outlined in sharp relief against the darkening azure sky. Looks like it was a bluebird day today. But the good weather was taking its toll on the slopes, which were looking thin and ragged. The season won't last much longer unless we get more snow. She sighed.

  Six months ago, she'd never have imagined thinking like this, but right now she really wished she was back working up the hill. However, with Allan so insistent that Lucy needed strong parental control, it was hard to devise a plan which could fit around that. Perhaps I could work weekends, since Lucy's usually up here anyway? She'd suggest that tonight. The ski school was usually busier at weekends anyway, so they could probably use an extra instructor. And the Easter holidays were coming up.

  The boot door suddenly clunked open. "Thanks for picking me up, Mum," Lucy said, piling her snowboard and helmet into the luggage area at the back of the car.

  "How was the training today?" Jude asked as Lucy slid into the passenger seat.

  "Cool."

  Twenty minutes later, she was turning onto Cairn Street, when a movement on the pavement caught her eye.

  "Mum!" Lucy shrieked.

  Jude braked sharply just as a familiar figure fell onto the road almost under her wheels. Behind him, two dark-clad men with murderous looks on their red faces burst out of the wood and raced towards him.

  Without thinking, she shouted, "Jump in, Simon!"

  Gasping, he tumbled onto the back seat. On the roadside, the two men ground to a halt, one of them pumping a fist in frustration. There was something familiar about him, but her concern for Simon didn't let her dwell on it, as she nosed the car back into the road again.

  "Need to go back." Simon pointed back towards the woods — and the men. "Get my camera."

  "Not with those guys there," she said. "Why were they chasing you?"

  "Osprey nest."

  "You were disturbing an osprey nest?"

  "No, they were."

  There were ospreys in the forest? There are ospreys in the forest!

  She screeched to a stop in front of the pub. "Stay here, Lucy. You phone the police while we go and get help."

  The door of the pub crashed open and both Mike and Callum looked up from their drinks as Spock charged in, closely followed by Jude; their faces red and agitated. Mike raised his eyebrows at Callum, who was half out of his seat already.

  "Mike, Callum, we need your help. Can you grab your jackets and meet us in the car? I'll explain on the way — there's no time to waste." Jude's face was a mask of concern.

  Extricating himself from behind the table, Mike grabbed his jacket and phone and ran out of the pub behind Callum and the others.

  Within minutes, they were back at the path into the forest.

  "Lucy will point the police in the right direction when they arrive," Jude said, with a sharp look at the girl.

  Lucy nodded, swallowing. "Be careful, Mum."

  "We will," Jude called over her shoulder.

  As they followed Spock into the forest, Mike said, "So, let me get this straight, there's a pair of ospreys in the forest here that you've been watching, then two men came and tried to steal their eggs and you got photos of them?"

  Spock jerked his chin in assent.

  "And I recognised one of the men," Jude said.

  "Down here," Spock interjected, and disappeared through the bushes to the right of the path. With a shrug, Mike followed, Jude and Callum on his heels.

  "You recognised one of the men?" Mike threw a quick glance at Jude over his shoulder.

  She nodded. "I'm not sure where from, though."

  "Should we not wait for the police, rather than charging in ourselves like some modern-day Light Brigade?"

  "They might have found his camera by then."

  She had a point. At least the cavalry's on its way.

  Spock stopped and waved a hand at them "Sssh! We're close," he hissed. Seconds later, he stopped abruptly, motioning them down as he ducked behind a tree. Male voices raised in anger filtered towards them across the still evening air.

  Chapter 15

  SPOCK PEERED AROUND the trunk, chest heaving, and felt his throat clamp shut.

  The two eggers had discovered his birdwatching hide, and the smaller man had his head poked inside. As Spock watched, he bent over and picked something up from the ground. My camera!

  The man backed out and showed it to his accomplice, turning it in his hands as if looking for something. His gruff voice was perfectly audible through the quiet of the clearing. "How d'you get the film out?"

  "It's digital," the other man said, scorn lacing his tone. "Give it here." The camera passed between them, and he started prodding at its sides.

  He'll find the memory card. He'
ll destroy all my photos. All his precious osprey photos — not to mention the evidence of the eggers' wrong-doing. Spock could stand it no longer, and he stood up and raced forwards with a roar. These bullies needed confronting.

  Jude glanced frantically at Mike as Simon charged towards the two miscreants, but he was already in motion, following swiftly behind Callum.

  "Stay there! We'll sort them out," he shouted back to her as he burst out of the tree-line and headed for the hide.

  Not likely! Surely the more bodies they had to confront those baddies, the better? Jude set off in hot-footed pursuit.

  At the hide, a stalemate of sorts was in progress. On the one side stood the two men, holding Simon's camera like a prize exhibit, muscles tensed and jaws jutting. On the other stood the three ski instructors, breathing heavily, eyes narrowed.

  Simon stepped towards the men, arm outstretched. "Give me my camera."

  "Your camera?" The smaller man's voice had a Midlands accent. "It were just lying here in the forest. Finders keepers, if you ask me."

  Simon set his jaw and took another step forward, his eyes steely. "Give me my camera," he said again, more forcefully.

  Jude's eyes widened. She'd never seen Simon as determined as this; he was normally so laid back he made horizontal look like a hive of industry.

  Mike opened his hands and motioned at his colleagues, looking earnestly at the two men. "There's three witnesses here, guys. Give it over, and we'll forget—" He stopped mid-sentence, and cocked his head. In the distance, sirens wailed their metallic song, the song that was like a death-knell to any wrong-doers.

  The taller man's face twisted. "You think I was born yesterday?" With one sweeping movement, he launched the camera into the air, grabbed his friend's arm, and ran.

  Jude watched, aghast, as the camera dropped out of the sky and smashed onto a rock, black plastic and glass shattering like a snowball landing on concrete.